


Even Kings Get Scared

by Noctilucence



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, dare i say pining, gift for the queen of hinomarx dameceles, just transferring my tumblr works onto ao3, kind of a character study now that i've reread it, modern uni AU, originally for nagamas 2017, self doubts on both sides because this is formative adult years and that's what happens, xander is beefy nerd and hinoka is a tiny warrior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14409654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noctilucence/pseuds/Noctilucence
Summary: Everybody else seemed to think they knew what they were doing. Even when they went to ask the other for advice, neither of them realised maybe neither of them had any idea what was going on.She was angry and winging it; he was just scared.





	Even Kings Get Scared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dameceles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/gifts).



**

Xander had thought he’d seen much of the world already; people were people, regardless of where he was.

He understood that while people were simple creatures, underestimating them with arrogance was asking for trouble.  
People did not like to be taken lightly, and in the face of being belittled, they rose up like towering trees and bit back like an angered dog.

It was at that age he had learnt that the differences between people were most exaggerated. People of all sorts surrounded him, in classes, on campus, at sparring, all in the same part of life, yet all so varied. Some young, some older than their years and some in-between.

Only a handful of years separated Hinoka and himself, but he was more a grown man than she was a woman in the way Camilla was. Less a girl than Elise, but somewhere in-between.  
She reminded him a little bit of Leo, remnants of youth clinging onto her cheeks, a fiery disposition showing itself in her eyes.  
Pride in the way she carried her chin high, but the occasional shadows of doubt flickering across her face when she thought she was alone. 

When they had first met, her hair had still been long and wild, usually tied back for classes and fights, but sometimes let loose in the afternoon breeze when she was free for the day.

He was fond of her, the way she was able to lead and nurture others, the way she kept her calm (most of the time), and the way she got angry at others when she thought he wasn’t looking. Wise for her years, young for the pedestal she had been placed upon by the people around her.

Unafraid and free to do as she pleased, to say earnestly what she felt—he felt a little jealous that she was so forward, but in that way, her courage inspired him little by little to be more like her.

Though he always looked down at her short frame, in his mind she belonged in the sky, with nothing to hold her down—to be looked up to, in every sense of the phrase.

She had once, literally swept him off his feet during sparring when he hadn’t paid enough attention; before he knew it, her slender legs had tripped him over when he couldn’t keep up with her speed and he came crashing down onto the mat.

She smiled and laughed proudly, offering a hand up as he stared at her in surprise.

“Well fought. You really had me for a bit!” Hinoka grinned.

After class, he would always slink away to the showers, then hurry home—he’d watch her stay among the crowd, as he walked away, chatting, helping the newer students stretch and cool down and tend to injuries with words of encouragement.

It was a cold winter night when she had cornered him outside the men’s showers; bundled up in several layers of clothes, hair still wet because he couldn’t be bothered and he just wanted to go home. Hinoka stood waiting for him, leaning carefree against the clean white walls of the hallways.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Her hair was loose again around her shoulders, wispy locks curling around the edges of her face.

“Hello Hinoka.”

She fell into step easily next to him, passing him a juice box wordlessly.

He took it, grateful to have an excuse to remain quiet. He never believed in his ability for small talk.

Their collective steps echoed throughout the hallways for a while before Hinoka spoke up.

“You’re not angry at me, are you?” she ventured.

“Whatever for?” Xander asked.

“Well…you never lose usually. I’m sure you want to keep up your image in front of everyone, so I…”

“You came to apologise?” he raised an eyebrow.

Hinoka looked up at him with watchful eyes, trying to read his reaction.

“You’re…not angry?”

The thought made him quake with a laugh.

“Of course not. Your skill should be recognised when you prove it.” Xander replies.

The redhead sighed in relief. “I can never tell. You always look so…serious.”

“Unfortunate, but this is my face.”

Hinoka’s head shot up. “No, I didn’t mean it that way…”

She trailed off as the smile on his face remains.

“Ah. You made a joke.”

She smiled back at him with an awkward laugh. “That’s good to know.”

“Hinoka, are you close with your brothers?” Xander suddenly asked.

The redhead hummed in thought. “Well, Takumi isn’t the kind of person to share things easily…

And Ryouma…even though he’s my brother, it’s like he lives in a different world. I guess he’s more like a dad than a brother?”

Xander frowned.

“Ah, but you know, nii-san is a lot older than you, so that’s pretty natural.”

“That’s good to know.” Xander repeated dryly.

“And you?” Hinoka asked, hoping to salvage the situation.

“Leo has always shut himself off from others—even now, he doesn’t like to rely on others.” Xander replied.

“It seems especially not me nowadays.” He sighed.

“My sisters and I are very close; we have been for all our lives. Even if we’re busy, they will always take the time to find me. In return, I try and do the same for them.”

“Maybe you should do the same for Leo?” Hinoka suggested. “Even if it seems like he hates you.

I do the same for my younger siblings. Takumi hates asking for help, but It’s still up to me to remind him that I’m here. Especially because he’s shy in his own way.”

Xander fell into pensive quiet, apparently mulling over her words as if it were the next lecture’s reading material. It felt odd that he was taking advice from her when she had done the opposite so many times.

They had made it to the foyer of the building, dimly lit by the surrounding vending machines.

“Well, this is the end of the road.” Hinzoka finally says.

“Are you staying here?” he asked her.

“I’m waiting for my brother to finish archery practice.”

“Would you like me to wait with you?”

Hinoka looked slightly flustered. “Ah, no, that’s alright—he’s coming soon, and I know you’re a busy person. You should hurry home.”

Xander hesitated; on one hand, Hinoka was fully capable of keeping herself safe. On the other hand, he felt guilty about simply leaving her—but they had obviously run out of things to talk about.

“Well then.”

He took her hand softly and presses a small packet into her palm.

Hinoka’s head bowed as she instinctively looked down and locked him in a wrist grab, ready to twist if need be.

“Ah, s-sorry…” she stuttered. “It’s just second nature now.”

Hinoka releases his hand slowly, fingers brushing past with the slightest of touch.

“Get home safely.” Xander smiles before turning to face the cold of the night.

Long after the door had closed, and Xander’s figure had disappeared into the night, Hinoka looks down—it was a small heat packet, with “shake me!” lovingly written (presumably by one of his sisters) on its packet in permanent marker and a smiley face.

**

 Xander wrote poetry and read old books with yellowed pages and worn leather covers. She imagined that he liked to sit in old fashioned leather armchairs in front of a fireplace with a cup of tea, or even a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He would never have disobeyed his parents’ commands.

The perfect, accomplished, golden child.

He was a stately lord dressed in the modern man’s wardrobe of pressed shirts and pocket-squares. Xander was not overly competitive beyond keeping up a silent reputation that spoke for itself when he knocked down foes on both the sparring mat and the academic field.

How their paths had crossed, she couldn’t fathom. She never would have imagined she would find a bookworm at her university martial arts club.

According to her brothers, she was more wild beast than young lady. Free to pursue the things she wanted, free to bite back at those who would judge or say otherwise. A fearless warrior with the fire of dragons burning through her soul.

After a poor performance during training, Xander had politely asked her if everything was alright. She opened her mouth and a childish plea fell out before she could stop it.

“I wish my brother would take me more seriously as an adult.”

Embarrassment burned through her as Xander frowns.

“Then make him.”

She knew perfectly well that he had really meant for her to earn her brother’s respect; force him to recognise her maturity. But Hinoka was angry and sick of working for things that should have been hers already.

She was drunk on childish pettiness in the middle of summer when she decided to cut her hair to spite Ryouma (and most definitely all her ancestors) after he wouldn’t shut up about her needing to be ‘more like other girls’. She had decided to get back at him by bringing outdated concepts of shame and dishonour onto the family. Takumi had watched, his own ponytail nearing waist length as she’d sat, perched over the bathtub with a pair of scissors in her hand and vengeance in her heart.

“I hate Ryouma.” Hinoka had said stubbornly.

Takumi then, had been in his ‘detached from the world’ phase, and mumbled a “whatever” in response. She’d half expected him to leave afterwards out of disinterest, but Takumi had stayed for the whole process, watching her red locks fall in spiky clumps.

Hinoka eyed her younger brother’s hair, silky and a silvery type of ash blond. She ran her fingers through the impromptu pixie cut she’d given herself; the ends were feathery and soft, but her reflection showed a scarlet storm on her head.

 _I like it_. She told herself, over and over again until she forced out every single doubt from her mind.

“Nee-san.” Takumi said softly. “I’ll get the broom.”

He always used formal language when she was angry. Likewise, Ryouma only spoke in formal tones when she was in trouble. She hated it; the dance of thinly veiled emotions behind socially acceptable words and behaviours.

She hadn’t bothered to reply, instead staring at her handiwork with shaky pride.

_I like it, and so will everyone else._

The very next day at sparring, practice Xander compliments her haircut.

“It suits you.” He smiles.

“It’s easier to deal with.” Hinoka admits, feeling the cold, empty space at the nape of her neck with a split moment of vulnerability.

“You certainly move more confidently now.”

She was good at hiding behind a focused face, especially when they were in the middle of training, and she was glad for it—Hinoka bit her lip in an effort to keep the rising blush at bay under the intensity of Xander’s stare.

She felt pride swell up in her chest; and just like that, everything was instantly better, instantly fine. No more doubts rose up in her mind, only affirmations that cemented her decision.

It was  _her_  hair. She had to deal with it, and so she could do whatever the hell she wanted with it.

It was the middle of summer, and she’d had enough of sweating and having it up anyway.

Her ponytail longer swished in front of her face in the middle of fights.

And if someone as accomplished as Xander thought it was a good thing, what did anyone else have to counter that?

She didn’t want to go home that night, home to Ryouma who would undoubtedly still be angry at her, home to Takumi who seemed too scared to approach her.

The afternoon was a furious orange, and she should have been home an hour ago. Instead, she’d sat and sulked on one of the continually closed café’s stools. HInoka hugged a knee, watching the other foot dangle above the tiles.

Xander, ever the slowest in the showers, finds his way out to greet her.

“Hello Xander.” She says as he pulls up a seat opposite her.

“You seem troubled.” He says bluntly.

Hinoka groaned. “I got into a fight with someone who doesn’t think I can make my own decisions.”

True, that she had been motivated by a fleeting emotion rather than sincere need, but she was allowed to do that every now and then. She wasn’t a statue. She got angry. She did stupid things sometimes. So did every other person in the world.

“Do you think you’re able?”

The redhead inhaled and held her breath. “The more I think about it, maybe not. But nobody is going to make the right decision every single time. Everyone messes up, sooner or later. What’s wrong as long as you try?”

Xander hums. “It takes great maturity to understand your own limitations. But in saying that you should try, you should also be mindful of your actions.

Sometimes, when someone is stopping you, perhaps they’re the ones who are scared. Perhaps they just want you to stay a child a little longer.

Once you let go of someone, they will never come back to you the way they left you. Change is terrifying to watch in the ones you are responsible for.”

“It’s not something you can stop forever. Trying to stop it will probably make it happen faster.”

“True.”

Xander falls silent.

“Even kings get scared.” He quotes from some book she would probably never read.

 _Wait.  
_ "Isn't that...from a kid's movie?"

Xander smiles bashfully; his silence is more self-damning than anything.

She quickly brought up the weather (of all things), and how pleasant it was, that the sun was still up when she went home by the end of the day.   
The blond, still drowning in embarrassment simply hums and nods.

“Are you heading home tonight?” she asks.

“I have to admit I don’t want to. Nobody’s there for today.” Xander smiles sheepishly.

“Are you waiting for your brother again?” he asks her.

Hinoka met his gaze evenly. “No.” she says coolly.

He seemed hesitant to ask what she was really doing there. Hinoka waited and sat patiently, all the while staring at him. The answer was obvious.

She’d known Leo and Elise were at her place tonight, meeting with her own siblings. She’d known Camilla was out of town for work. It had all fallen into place the day she cut her hair, and she’d decided right then and there that she would be a real girl, instead of her brother’s pretty little doll, that she too could play grown up and make her own choices.

Ryouma be damned.

She watched Xander breathe as quietly as possible, trying not to shift his chest as he inhaled. The calm, steely look of his gaze never wavered, but she could sense the nervous energy coming off him in waves.

“Would you like to have dinner? I promise I make excellent roast potatoes.” He finally offered.

“I’d be glad to keep you company.” HInoka smiles. “And I know that roast potatoes are all you can make confidently.” She laughs.

“Who told you that?” Elise?”

“Camilla.”

And the eldest sister had told her many, _many_ other things, for which Hinoka found herself grateful for.

**

When he looked at himself in the mirror, he didn’t feel like the person staring back was really him. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but his brows were in a constant, furrowed state as if he were always angry about something.

He’d shot upwards when puberty hit him, lanky first, then as he made time to exercise for his health (and maybe so that Father wouldn’t stare at him as if he were a complete disappointment), he’d filled his body out a little at a time until the result looked akin to a marble sculpture befitting an art exhibition. He hoped that as he changed physically, he would grow into the new body, as if it were a suit or shoes he would fit sooner or later.

But all through this, though he’d tried his best, his shyness never really seemed to go away. In his heart he knew it was still lurking around somewhere. He was quiet and never really spoke his mind unless it was with Camilla, but now it came across as stern discipline as opposed to a need to disappear into a room alone and lock himself in.

He had difficulty being honest, not in the lying way, but opening up to others took considerable effort. He had difficulty being selfish, actively wanting and taking things not on a needs basis, but because he desired to.

Xander wondered if Hinoka even knew he really existed underneath the statuesque exterior, the cold, stern front he put forward. He knew he rarely smiled or laughed in front of her, rarely went beyond the ‘mentor’ role he was too familiar with.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he entertained the idea that maybe it was his fault that he’d never shown her that side of him. It popped up in the foreground from time to time; when he knew better than to simply blame her for her inability to crack through his stony exterior.

Childishly—he realised with great annoyance that he still had that aspect of himself—he wished she would try harder instead of simply taking him as she thought he were.

She never let her guard down around him—even as her arms eventually found themselves wrapped around his neck, she took his cool mentality and mirrored it right back.

**

Inappropriate; dishonourable; shameful, sure.

But  _childish_  was the last word on her mind to describe her skulking out of Xander’s house like a ghost.

Truthfully, she understood that he deserved better than a wordless abandonment the morning after they slept together. But she’d always thought he didn’t care; she was just yet another young bird to be taken under his wing.

The arm over her when she’d woken up had proven otherwise. He had—in a way—claimed her, the way a child holds on to their favourite toy or blanket as if it were a protective talisman.

She was so used to being on top of things, fearless and focused, able to handle things coolly and with strength (or at least used to others thinking she was all of that). Hinoka felt giddy and annoyed at the thought; that stonehearted Xander cared¸ because she was frustratingly falling into that emotional trap faster than she liked. She then felt stupid for wishing, stupid that it made her happy when it was probably her own misguided interpretation.

She takes a deep breath and walks on, hoping she could muster up a brave face despite feeling like she’d been tossed through a mosh pit. Sweaty, gross, battered. Her bedhair was most likely rearing its ugly head (cutting it had only made the problem worse). Her sports jacket covered up most of the offending evidence from last night (the crinkled shirt she’d borrowed from Xander, the damning marks down her chest where the shirt didn’t button up because it was too big) and made her appear like a normal neighbourhood sleepyhead, out to grab milk from the convenience store.

If only.

In stubborn defiance, she would still defend her actions. This was something she had chosen to do and she had been fully aware of the consequences (they be damned alongside Ryouma). Plenty others who were older, wiser than her, had done far more stupid things than cut their hair and potentially ruin a relationship with a long standing personal hero of sorts.

Most of all, she kept telling herself, it didn’t matter. Not to Xander, who probably had lines of women after him, who dealt with this sort of thing every other week.

And it wouldn’t matter to her either.

Courage was the ability to move forward in the face of fear. Maturity, therefore, was the ability to let go, even though she still felt like a lost young soul, desperately clinging onto things. If she kept telling herself, it is so, Hinoka thought maybe she would begin to feel better about it one day.

**  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm just transferring my posts from tumblr to ao3. Might have tweaked this a little on re-reading three months later. I'm thinking I might continue on with this, it feels so unfinished honestly. Also new music is always an inspo boost.
> 
> I'm not happy with the new chapter for Motels and Dragons at the moment and wanted to find a particular phrase I used for something else and then I realised I never posted this on ao3.  
> I take a long time to write because often I come home too tired to do much. But things are happening behind the scenes, I promise !


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